


One day the blood won't flow so gladly

by the_wildcard



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Borderline Personality Disorder, Established Relationship, M/M, Panic Attacks, Strangulation, rape mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-06-09 04:46:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6890776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_wildcard/pseuds/the_wildcard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mac, Dennis, and Charlie are paid assassins. They're slightly better at it than you'd expect them to be.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from A world alone by Lorde

The apartment complex they find themselves in is run down. It's disgusting, really. A rat scampers across Dennis' hundred dollar shoes, and he bites back a yelp and resists the urge to stomp down on the rodent. The blood would be too hard to clean off. Besides, they can't kill a man with Charlie blubbering like a baby. 

It hadn't always been like this, they weren't buddies in high school that just decided one day to be paid assassins. But the day they figured out that they were pretty good at killing people and getting away with it, they knew they had to take advantage of it.

. . . 

"Hey Charles," Dennis said laughing drunkily. They were each sat at a stool in Paddy's, the bar that they owned. It's a slow night, they're all bored, and have been looking for something to do for hours. And you can only drink for so long. "Bet you won't stab that guy in the corner for fifty bucks." Mac turns around in his seat to see the man Dennis is talking about. 

He was a regular, who they each despised. He was rude and always passed out in the bar so whenever they wanted to lock up, they had to nudge him awake. Speak of the devil. The guy was passed out right now. "Bro," Charlie burps. "I would stab that guy for five bucks." Mac was watching his friends equally nervous and entertained. Dennis and Charlie scheming together never ended well. 

"Well then," Dennis says lowly, "do it." Their bar was empty besides the man they've targeted. Neither of the guys think Charlie will really do it. Not even when he leans over and grabs a lime knife from behind the bar. Dennis is actually grinning dangerously when Charlie stands, wielding the blade. 

"Come on," Mac says to his roommate, "don't encourage him, Den." But neither of them pay attention to Mac. Charlie sneaks up to their customer, almost cartoonishly. "What's his name?" Mac's thinking out loud, as Charlie is only about a foot away to the unconscious man. "Bryan?" He raises the knife menacingly. Mac isn't even looking. "Buster?" 

Charlie lodges the knife into the man's back. He pulls it out, and stabs it right back in, deeper, with more finality this time. He dies unceremoniously, not making a sound. Dennis sighs, obviously having expected more of a show and begins to dig his wallet from his back pocket. "Bruce!" Mac says smiling, taking a long drink of beer. 

When Charlie comes back to them he has blood splattered on the side of his face and the front of his shirt. He doesn't seem to notice, and if he does, he isn't disturbed by it. Dennis slaps a five dollar bill into his friends hand. Charlie smiles. 

. . . 

"Hey, Charlie," Mac says in a condescending tone, and Dennis waits eagerly for whatever passive aggressive statement his friend's about to make. "At least your apartment isn't this bad, right?" Charlie smiles and shrugs. He looks to the damp ground and the light in the stairwell flickers. 

"I like the rats. I bet they do a good job of eating the roaches, too." Dennis wants to gag, but holds it back. Of course Charlie would think rats are a good thing. He'd probably live here voluntarily. The three boys continue up the steps until they get to the third floor. 

"What room is it?" Mac asks, and looks to Dennis, who shrugs. "Charlie got the call, ask him." They both turn their heads to Charlie whose staring blankly at the stairwell door. "Huh?" They groan. 

"Charlie, whose apartment are we supposed to go to?" Charlie stands idly for a moment, still not looking at Dennis or Mac. They can practically see the gears in his head turning, smoke pumping out of his ears from over thinking. 

"Oh!" He jumps and turns to them. "ABC, 123!" His voice portrays that he came to a major conclusion. His friends faces, however, do not. "It's room 3C." Mac rolls his eyes. "Thank God we have you, Charlie," his voice is sarcastic, but he drapes an arm over Charlie's shoulder, and opens the door to the third floor. 

It takes them a couple minutes to find the room they're looking for, only passing one person who they would've considered a witness if the guy weren't so drugged up. Dennis could tell they were on cocaine.

Charlie knocks on 3C loudly, yelling in a high pitched voice, "hello! Hello!" Mac and Dennis look at each other, and smile. None of them remember the name of the guy they're about to kill, which may sound insensitive, but the girl who called them said he raped her. Besides, they weren't being paid to know the guys name. 

The man who opens the door isn't exactly what they were expecting. He's halfway hidden behind his door, chain still locked but from what Dennis can see, he's taller than all of them, but he's scrawny, arms and legs knobby. He looks sick. "What do you guys want," his voice is shaky. Like he knows what he's done wrong. 

Charlie and Dennis exchange looks, and Charlie rams his body into the man's front door without any warning. The chain breaks almost immediately, not something that happens often. Usually they have a tool to break metal chains with but they forgot their canvas duffel bag of supplies at Dennis and Mac's apartment. 

"Hey, woah!" He steps back, tries to run. He doesn't get far before Charlie gets to him, holding onto him from behind. This is their system. Charlie will grab the guy. Dennis kills them or in their rare cases, just hurts the guy. Mac keeps watch, (unless their target is tougher than Dennis. In those cases, he helps kill them) and drugs anyone who sees them. 

"What do you guys want? Money?" He's frantic and talking out of breath. Dennis smiles, his row of perfect white teeth all showing. "He's a fighter, huh?" Dennis says, and looks at Charlie, whose holding onto the man's arms, keeping him in place. 

Since he forgot their weapons, Dennis is gonna have to strangle this guy. No matter, he's strangled lots of people. And he knows no ones gonna go looking for who did it to this scum bag. Especially not in this neck of the woods. 

Dennis wraps his hands around the man's neck and squeezes. His pulse begins to weaken. To all of the boys relief, this guy doesn't (or can't) scream and it only takes a few minutes to die at Dennis' hands. 

This is about as smoothly as these things can go. 

Charlie let's go of the guy, who crumbles lifelessly to the shaggy carpet. "He couldn't have been more than our age," Mac says. They're all twenty nine. "Not even our age," Dennis answers. "Looked about twenty five to me." Mac narrows his eyes, looking down at the man, whose face down. Dennis nudges the man with his shoe. 

"Nah, bro, he's older than twenty five. Did you see his crows feet?" Dennis huffs, turning to face Mac. Charlie begins whining, already knowing where this is going. "He wasn't our age, Mac. In fact, I would even go so far to say he was twenty one." 

"Twenty one!" Mac begins but Charlie interrupts him before Mac can say anything else. "It doesn't matter!" He shrieks. "Let's just get outta here before someone sees us."

They both nod, surprised that Charlie's the one talking sense. Dennis kicks the guy before the three of them slip out of the apartment complex into the dark streets of Philadelphia.


	2. Contagious

Dennis is shivering on the couch when Mac comes striding into their apartment, yelling, "I've got news!" The excitement in his eyes dims when he sees his roommate curled up in their living room. His eyes are red and glazed over, and there's a small bucket on the floor next to him. 

"Hey, dude, you okay?" Dennis smiles weakly and lifts his head, but can't even sit up up fully. Mac kneels down on the floor so that he's eye level with Dennis. He puts the back of his hand to Dennis' moist forehead. 

"God damnit, you're sick." Dennis shakes his head profusely and tries to sit up again. Again he finds that he doesn't have the strength. "No, no I'm fine. Look at me." Mac does, and cringes.

Dennis is in Mac's pajamas, which he only wears when he feels like shit. It's a large sleeveless T-shirt that says "world's best dad" and black sweat pants that must be a decade old. The bags under his eyes are even worse than usual, and hardly compliment his flushed face.

"What was your news?" Dennis is trying to change the subject, Mac can tell. After all, Dennis isn't nearly as subtle as he thinks he is, especially considering how long they've known each other. Mac decides to humor him. Then again, when doesn't he.

"We got another case. We have to hurt this girl in like ten hours max." Dennis groans, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Of course they'd get another customer the day he started feeling... Under the weather. 

"And they already payed us so, like, this has to happen, man." Mac lifts himself up to sit on the couch cushion. He's looking at his lap, brows furrowed, obviously thinking through what he's going to do without Dennis there. 

"Just do it without me, Mac." He extends his hand to him. Their fingers lace together, and Mac sighs, looking at their intertwined hands. "We need you there, man. I need you there." He squeezes his eyes closed, trying to think of a plan. Dennis tries not to feel happy about Mac saying he needs him because this is a bad situation. But he can't help himself.

"Hey," Dennis gently pulls Mac towards him with their still connected hands. Mac let's himself be guided on top of Dennis, who's now lying on his back. Dennis makes sure their faces are far away enough that Mac doesn't catch whatever he has, but they're still close enough so that Mac is pressed against him. 

"Now I'm going to suggest something that I usually wouldn't," Dennis is whispering, voice almost a growl. Mac has that expression on his face that almost makes him look like a child again. Despite the scars on his face, and the tattoo of an eagle on his neck, he looks innocent. 

"You need Dee's help." The look of adoration is immediately wiped from Mac's face, and he begins to push himself off of Dennis, who pulls Mac back down with their connected hands. He then raises his other hand to Mac's lower back, holding him in place. "You know I hate to say it, baby, but it's true. You said it yourself; you need a third person." 

Mac rolls his eyes, and readjusts his free hand so that it's next to Dennis' head. "Fine. I'll go talk to her." Dennis smiles at his boyfriend, and turns his head to kiss Mac's inner wrist. Neither of them mention how blush spreads across Mac's cheeks. 

"She's good at what she does, you know?" Mac nods, absently stroking Dennis' hair, fingers carding through the messy curls. "She's more successful than us. Gets more customers" Mac's hand stops moving. "Well that can't be true." Dennis grins. 

"At least she'll always just be a shitty bartender in Paddy's," Mac says. Dennis nods and closes his eyes as Mac begins to gently stroke his hair again. Dennis tries to ignore the mucus he feels at the back of his throat, begging for him to cough. He doesn't get sick. 

"Okay, I have to get going, Den. Dee's probably gonna need a bribe to do this for us." Dennis feels Mac's hand move to the nape of his neck. Dennis lifts a hand to Mac's mouth, covering the man's lips. "I'm sick, you can't kiss me. I'm probably contagious." Mac lifts his eyebrows, and when Dennis pulls his hand away Mac grins. 

"You know that just makes me want to kiss you more." This time when Mac leans in, Dennis doesn't stop it.


	3. Bluff

After a lot of convincing (and a lot of paying off) Dee agreed to help Charlie and Mac get this case done. "Just this one time." She was very adamant about that. Charlie seemed pretty excited about working with her, and Mac tried, really tried, not to notice the way Charlie looked at Sweet Dee. 

The kid had a knack at picking the girls worst for him to latch onto. The only reason he got Charlie to let go of the waitress was when him and Dennis killed her. They were worried they might get caught but no one even noticed she was gone. Except Charlie, of course. He just figured she moved. 

And now they're following Dee to their targets building, and Charlie is looking at her like she's a platter of various cheeses, which to Charlie is like a Greek goddess. "So who's this girl, anyway?" Dee asks, turning to look at Mac over her shoulder. His eyes lower to the ground; she has that effect on him. Just like Dennis, she knows just what she's doing and wants everyone to know it. 

That's about where their similarities end. Dennis has pasty pale skin and brown hair, Dee has golden skin and long, almost white blonde hair that Dennis swears is dyed. When Dennis gets angry, he explodes and throws whatever he can get his hands on, at whoever is closest. He hurts what he can, then he breaks down in tears five minutes later, apologizing to no end.

But Dee, if you say something that rubs her the wrong way she shuts down. She doesn't speak, doesn't move, other than her fingers tapping. That's when you'd better hope she doesn't know where you live. 

"The guy that called us said his dad was cheating on his mom with this girl." Dee scoffs, and turns to face forward again. "Why aren't we beating the dad, then?" Mac looks at Charlie questioningly, but Charlie is smiling at Dee. 

"This isn't time for another one of your feminist rants, let's just get the job over with." Dee whips her head around to shoot Mac a glare. Charlie laughs when he sees Mac flinch. 

Dee stops suddenly in front of a building, and begins to dig something out of her back pocket. Mac sees that it's a small square of paper. "Charlie, what does this say?" Her voice sounds irritated and shrill, causing Mac takes a slight step back, but Charlie moves to stand behind her. 

"Oh," he can't read what he wrote either. Mac sighs and moves to snatch the paper from Dee's hand. He crumples it up and drops it to the wet cement. 

"This is the building. Right Charlie?" Mac looks at Charlie expectantly so he doesn't look like a complete idiot in front of Dee. "Yeah," his voice is high making Mac cringe. "See?" Mac smiles at Dee, who's eyebrows are raised and eyes are wider than usual. Mac notices that they're just as blue as Dennis'. 

 

It takes them a few minutes to find the right apartment because Charlie, once again, forgot the number. Mac tells himself that he's going to start answering their business calls from now on. "Here," Charlie points at the door. 

"You sure," Mac's voice is a little cautious. The halls are empty, but he knows if someone comes out, they're screwed. They are very out of place in this pristine, very obviously expensive apartment complex. 

"Yes I'm sure, Mac!" 

Dee knocks politely on the wooden door, and only a moment later a woman opens the door. She's about Dee's height with black hair and dark skin. Mac wonders what her ethnicity is, but before he has time to figure it out, Dee pushes her way into the apartment. He probably wouldn't have been able to figure it out anyway. 

The woman screams but Dee lunges to cover the woman's mouth with her hand. Charlie looks starstruck and Mac punches his shoulder before walking into the apartment, locking the door behind him. 

"Scream and we will fucking kill you." The girl nods with tears in her eyes. Dee slowly removes a hand and steps back. For a moment everything is calm. But then the woman is screaming again and running to another doorway. 

Mac is the first to get to her. She's standing in the middle of a small kitchen. The lights are off and Mac can only see her silhouette. 'God damnit Dee', he thinks, 'we aren't supposed to actually kill her. She called our bluff.'

He sees a glint in the air, and realizes she's wielding a knife. Before he has time to move she's running at him, thrashing the large kitchen knife around. Mac acts on his first instinct, which is to lift his arms up to cover his face. 

She gets a few good slashes into his arms, before Dee strides in. She easily grabs the girls wrist that's holding the knife, and snatches the weapon from her. 

"She's already seen our faces," Dee's watching the girl while speaking to Mac, who's trying to keep his blood from dripping on the tile. He doesn't say anything when Dee buries the blade into the woman's chest; she never stood a chance. 

Mac turns to see Charlie standing at the doorway of the kitchen. "Guys," there's a sudden knock at the front door, "we may have run into a little problem." The knocking gets louder and more incessant. Mac groans, realizing he forgot to keep a lookout.

They leave through the fire escape, Mac having a little more trouble than the rest of them.


	4. The stink of copper

Mac comes into the apartment, shirt sticking to his torso from all the blood, which is still leaking from his arms. Dennis stands from the couch and runs over to him. "What the fuck happened, Mac?" He has his eyes to the floor, and pushes past Dennis to get to the kitchen to pull out one of their many bottles of whiskey from the freezer. Dennis watches as he takes a long drink from it. 

"What happened?" Mac sighs, and hops up to sit on the counter, whiskey bottle still in hand. He debates whether pouring the alcohol on his arms would do more damage than good. Dennis finally sees the source of blood and grabs Mac's arm that isn't holding the alcohol. 

"Oh my god. You're gonna need stitches, bro. Come on, let's go to the bathroom." Mac shakes his head, and in the same motion shaking himself from Dennis' grip. He takes another long drink of whiskey. It makes Dennis want to throw up. He remembers the bucket he left beside the couch. 

Mac always gets in pissy moods when he gets hurt. Whether it's because he couldn't protect his friends, or it proves he isn't as strong as he thinks he is, or a mix of both. Dennis doesn't know. But Dennis does know that Mac isn't going to keep bleeding like this. 

His skin looks slightly paler than usual. "Baby, don't be like that." Mac glares at Dennis, who's standing in front of him at the counter. He holds the menacing stare even when Dennis pushes Mac's knees apart to step between them. 

"Your shirt is soaked, let's get it off." Dennis has his hands at the bottom of Mac's dark T-shirt, and begins to lift it. His expression softens, but he still looks angry. When he sets the alcohol down, blood drips onto their otherwise spotless counter. 

Mac let's Dennis pull off his shirt, which sticks slightly to his body as it's pulled away. The skin of his torso is stained with blood, and Dennis doesn't even know he's about to start crying until his eyes start to burn.  
He wills the tears away. 

That's the good thing about Mac here; he makes Dennis feel again. "Please let me stitch your arms up." Mac rolls his eyes, and grabs the whiskey again. "And here I was thinking you were gonna suck my dick." He's kidding, but Dennis doesn't care much for jokes. 

"That can be arranged," Dennis says suggestively. Mac takes a large gulp of the alcohol, almost choking on it, and then sighs. "Fine." He takes another drink. "But if you're sowing me up I can't be sober." 

 

Dennis bites the inside of his mouth while giving Mac all the stitches he needs. He's done this a million times, always having to practically beg Mac to let him take care of him, and Mac always giving in. You'd think he'd be used to this by now. 

Despite their line of work, Dennis is pretty queazy. Maybe the constant flow of blood would be more assuring if it weren't coming from the man he loves.

Mac sways a little from where he's sitting on the kitchen floor; he refused to go to the bathroom. "Fuck," he whispers. "I can't feel any of this shit." 

Dennis has gone through the three lacerations on Mac's right arm, and moves on to do the two on his left. "You're a mess, baby." Dennis says fondly, and Mac grins. 

 

"You had a long day at work then?" Mac looks up at Dennis, who's sitting over Mac's extended legs. Up close he looks even sicker than usual. Mac can see his dark purple, almost black veins surrounding his tired, bloodshot eyes. He has to constantly sniffle, or rub his nose on his sweater sleeve. But he still looks ten times more put together than Mac ever could. 

"Mac?" He blinks, realizes where he is, and winces when he looks at his lap. Blood runs down his arm, he can hardly see his tattoos. It stinks like copper, but that may be the whiskey that he's been sipping. 

"Yeah. But Dee and Charlie didn't go home looking like me, so I guess that's something." Dennis nods and leans back. "Done." Mac looks down, trying to count all the stitches he got, but everything blurs together and that's when he realizes he should probably stop drinking for the night. 

"You know how I said we were just gonna rough that girl up?" Dennis nods while lightly wiping Mac's arms with a cold wet rag. "Well Dee fucking stabbed her." 

Dennis' eyebrows pull together and he looks up at Mac. "She didn't follow protocol?" Mac shakes his head and then leans it back against a kitchen counter. 

"But the guy who called us was a sixteen year old pussy. Doubt he can do anything about it." 

Dennis thinks about it while wiping down Mac's red abdomen with the once white rag. They've never done something that a customer hasn't asked them to do. Never robbed a joint after murdering someone, never talked to them for longer than necessary. Certainly never killed them when they were only supposed to beat the shit out of them. 

"I hope Dee didn't get you guys on some guys hit list."


	5. Begging

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flashback to when Mac got the scar on his forehead

Dennis can't sleep. Nights like this have begun happening more and more often. The cold, dead eyes of the people he's strangled haunt him, and he can't close his eyes without seeing theirs'. But at least he has Mac to look at. 

They're naked, tangled up together, faces almost touching they're so close. Dennis can see Mac's long eyelashes in the dark bedroom, and his eyes look like they're flickering. Maybe he's having a nightmare. 

Sometimes Dennis wishes they'd never started this hitman thing. From the start Mac was tentative about it. He said he never wanted to kill people (Dennis always thought it was because he was afraid of becoming his father. Dennis has never said that that's impossible). He only wanted to protect people. 

Charlie and Dennis convinced him that that's exactly what they'd be doing, and he finally caved. And of course, Dee overheard their new business plan. They should've known she'd steal their idea. 

Dennis tries to scoot closer to Mac without moving too much; Mac's arms are around Dennis' waist and he's terrified of disturbing the stitches. Mac groans in his sleep. Dennis stills. He watches him, deciding not to move anymore. 

The large, almost horizontal scar on Mac's forehead is the worst he has. Not just on his face, but his entire body. It's been almost three years since it's happened, but the scar is still puffed out angrily. 

Dennis can't think about that day without feeling sick. 

***

The woman wraps her arm around Mac's throat and pulls him back, impossibly closer to her. His back is pressed into her chest and his face is starting to red from lack of oxygen. 

Charlie is passed out on the floor next to Dennis, who's just now able to pull himself up. "Let him go, you bitch." It hurts to speak because his lip is split in two places but he figures it would hurt more to watch Mac die. 

Two of the goons they came here to kill are standing next to the grinning woman. Dennis knows he can't fight off all three of them alone, especially considering the state he's in. Really at this point he's just winging it. She lifts her already glistening red knife to Mac's throat. 

He doesn't even flinch when the tip of the blade presses into his Adam's apple. Dennis tells himself it's because Mac's just unconscious. That would make more sense than him giving up. 

"Let him go now or I'll rip your throat out with my teeth." That gets the woman to laugh and Mac's lidded eyes flutter open completely. Their eyes lock together. Dennis hopes that Mac knows he's going to save him before that knife goes anywhere else. 

The two buff men on either side of her stride towards Dennis and he instinctively flinches. They pull him to his feet and he winces. After hours of them beating the fuck out of them it's actually starting to hurt. 

"Tell me who sent you and I won't kill your boyfriend." Dennis laughs, despite the bile rising in his throat. "He's not my boyfriend, don't be ridiculous." She rolls her eyes. "Fine. Tell me why you came here to kill me and I won't fucking scalp him." 

He clenches his jaw and swallows his vomit. They never got a name from the guy. He didn't want to give away personal information, they didn't ask questions, that's their thing. That's how they get their business.

"Please," he's reduced to this. Begging. "We don't ask questions, okay." She raises the blade to Mac's forehead, who squeezes his eyes closed. "They just gave us an address, a date, and a target." She must not believe him because one fat drop of blood rolls down from Mac's forehead, and down his cheek like a tear. 

"We don't know the guy who sent us here. This is our job, you have to believe me." But she doesn't believe him. "Suit yourself." Dennis doesn't have time to react before she drags the knife across Mac's forehead in one swift moment. She lets him fall to his knees, for a moment he looks like he's about to pray. But he doesn't. He falls forward onto his stomach, face to the pavement.

Dennis is trying to pull himself out of the men's grip to get to Mac; the amount of blood forming on the floor isn't natural. There's yelling and Dennis doesn't know it's himself until they both let him go and then punch him in the stomach.

He falls to the dirty cement of the abandoned factory they've found themselves in. The cement is wet, and it takes him a good moment to realize why. Half of his face is caked in his best friend's blood. "Mac!" Dennis crawls as fast as he can towards him. 

He's facedown and not moving. This can't be good. "Mac." Dennis pushes himself up, ignoring the throbbing in his head, and rolls Mac around on his back. Dennis swears he can see his skull past the open, bleeding wound. 

"Mac," he's repeating his name like a prayer because Mac was all he believed in. Now even he is gone. Three gun shots fire out, and Dennis' eyes are closed when he realizes that he's not dead. 

"Fuck, what happened to him." The voice is familiar, but he doesn't care to open his eyes. "Dennis?" It sounds concerned now, and a hand grabs at his shoulder to pull him away from Mac. He keeps his head planted firmly on Mac's chest. The heartbeat there is all he thinks keeping him sane. 

"Fine," Dennis opens his eyes when he hears a dragging. Sweet Dee is starting to drag a still unconscious Charlie from the dark building. The three people are on the floor, lifeless. 

Dennis registers that Dee did just save them, and finished what they came here to do. But he doesn't care.  
A minute later Dee comes strolling back in, wiping her hands on her black leather pants. "I know he's been lying in the dirt but God damn Charlies' dirty." 

She steps next to Mac's head, directly in Dennis' field of vision. "Get up dickhead, I'm trying to help you." He lifts his head so that she can grab Mac from under each arm and drag him away. Dennis blindly follows see to wherever she's going. 

The range rover is parked by the door of the building they're in and Dennis doesn't care enough to ask why she had his car. He just helps her lifts Mac into the large trunk, next to Charlie and climbs into the passenger seat. 

"We probably need to go to the emergency room, huh?" Dennis nods, looking straight ahead. Dee knows what that look means. "Mac's going to be okay." He doesn't answer, not knowing what he'd say if he did.

Instead, he crawls into the trunk. Charlie is still not  
conscious, neither is Mac. Maybe they're both dead. Dennis presses his hand to Mac's head to stop the bleeding, but it's doesn't help. "It wasn't supposed to end like this." Dennis' voice is hoarse and it hurts from screaming earlier. 

Dennis leans down and presses their lips together. Their blood mixes together from Dennis' split lip, and the blood from Mac's forehead that's seeped to his mouth. "I love you," he whispers it like it's a secret. Maybe it was. 

***

Dennis rubs tears from his cheeks, but they don't stop coming. "Mac," his whole body trembles, and he can't breathe. "Wake up, baby," he shakes his shoulder to wake Mac up. Dennis could've sworn Mac had stopped breathing. 

"What? What is it," Mac tries to sit up, until he realizes Dennis is crying. "Hey," Mac pulls his arms from around Dennis and lifts it to his cheeks to wipe the tears off. 

Mac's gotten used to this; Dennis waking him up having a panic attack. Usually it's because Dennis can't stop thinking about the people he's murdered (Mac knows Dennis isn't cut out to do this assassin thing. Neither of them are). 

Dennis shakes his head and leans forward to kiss him. "I'm just glad you're okay," he whispers. Mac doesn't question it. "Yeah, well I'm still a little drunk from earlier, so I don't really feel my arms." He smiles a little, hoping to reassure Dennis. 

"No that's not what I mean." 

Mac lifts his eyebrows. 

"I was just thinking about when you got that," Dennis lifts his thumb to trace the mark on his head. 

"This?" 

 

Dennis nods. Mac laughs a little shakes his head. "That was the first night we kissed though, remember." Mac likes the scar on his forehead. It is a reminder that good things can come from bad situations. That though something may look ugly, something beautiful could've been born from it. 

Dennis narrows his eyes and pulls his hand from Mac's forehead. 

"You knew I did that?" Dennis could've sworn that Mac was out cold when he kissed him. That's partly why he did it. "Obviously." Dennis' eyes widen slightly when he remembers what else happened that night. 

"So you heard what I said?" Mac nods. "Any thoughts on that?" Mac nods. Dennis waits for Mac to say it back.  
"Dennis Reynolds, I think it's very clear that I feel the same way." He doesn't say the word love, but they never needed to before. They both knew, and that's always been enough. It still will be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is kinda long


	6. Blue Toothpaste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I realized that writing Dennis and Mac in a loving, healthy relationship might be too self indulgent. IOW Mac and Dennis have an argument

Mac wakes up with a hangover, a cold, and bright blue, bloodshot eyes looking back at him. Somehow, he never gets tired of waking up to the same thing every day. Then again, it would be impossible to get tired of something as beautiful as Dennis. People still pay to see the statue of David, don't they?

"Morning, baby," Dennis almost whispers. The sunlight shines in through their blinds, and it makes Dennis look almost angelic. So profoundly divine that Mac almost feels dizzy. That may be the hangover, though. 

Mac sniffles. "Morning." He pulls his arm from under Dennis' waist, and then hisses at the pain that shoots through his body. He almost forgot about the stitches. Meanwhile, Dennis watches him cautiously, like he's ready to jump up to get the first aid kit at any moment. 

"Relax," Mac groans, "I'm fine." Dennis doesn't relax, but being tense is just a personality trait by now. 

Mac's cellphone is what gets them out of bed and dressed, because Charlie called from the bar with another case. Mac told Charlie to ask Dee to write the address this time. 

Before Mac pulls on a T-shirt, he looks at himself in the bathroom mirror, with Dennis standing next to him, brushing his teeth. The ace bandages around each of his arms have spots of blood and what he thinks is whiskey. 

"Babe?" Dennis' voice is garbled because he still has his toothbrush in his mouth, and bright blue toothpaste dripping down his chin. Mac shakes his head instead of answering, and looks back at his body, wringing his shirt in his hands. 

Maybe he would be proud of how he looks if he didn't have so many scars (He has been working out a lot). Dennis often says that they're battle scars, and they're from protecting people so he shouldn't be self conscious. But most of them are just because he couldn't defend himself properly. Like last night. 

"Come on," Dennis says, toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. "Let me put on your makeup." Mac smiles at Dennis and nods before looking to the ceiling so Dennis can rub dark eyeliner over his water line. "Blink," Dennis says, and lifts a mascara brush to Mac's eyes. 

When the makeup is applied, Dennis steps back to admire his work, and Mac grins. Dennis looks so ridiculous, with the blue toothpaste oozing out of his mouth. Mac gently pulls the brush out of Dennis' mouth and then leans in to kiss him. The toothpaste he gets on his own lips is worth it. 

 

Later, the three of them are sitting in the range rover, waiting for their target to come home. They've been waiting for a good three hours, and each of them are starting to get stir crazy. 

"God, where do you think this guy is?" Mac asks, setting his binoculars down in his lap. Dennis groans from the drivers seat, "if we knew do you think we'd still be sitting here?" 

Mac ignores Dennis' outburst, as he so often does. He knows Dennis can't control his anger sometimes, and this is one of those times. The fact that they've been waiting for hours probably isn't helping his temper.

"I'm gonna go check out his apartment, again", Charlie hops out of the car, mostly because he could tell they were about to argue. 

Mac and Dennis are sitting in silence for a while until Mac speaks up. "you know, you really should refill your prescription." Dennis scoffs and throws the binoculars he had in his hand into the back of the car. It hits the back window, making Mac jump in surprise. Neither of them turn around to see if the glass cracked. 

"Yeah? And how long have you been waiting to tell me that?" Mac doesn't answer, instead stares out the window, hoping- praying that Charlie comes back. 

Dennis screams for Mac to look at him, and he does. Dennis' eyes look wild and red, so unlike how they looked this morning. "How long have you been thinking that, Mac?" He reaches for Dennis' knee, but Dennis pushes his hand away. "Thinking what?" His voice is gentle to try to calm Dennis down. 

"That I'm fucking crazy. That I rely on pills to keep me sane?" Mac shakes his head and runs his hands through his slicked back hair. "I don't think that." But Dennis doesn't listen, as he often doesn't when he's in a mood. "But I do think that they help your-"

"Get out of the car," his temper is short enough as is, Mac figures, and decides not to argue with him. "Fine." He grabs his gun from the duffel back on the ground and shoves it into the back of his pants before stepping out of the car.


	7. 0 to 100

Mac eventually finds Charlie, sitting in the dimly lit stairwell of the apartment complex. "Hey," Mac greets his friend, tiredly walking up the steps towards him. 

"Hey. Dennis yell at you?" Mac laughs and lowers himself down next to Charlie, sitting a step below Charlie's so that they're the same height. "You know it." 

Charlie is pulling on a loose string on his ratty jeans and looks over at Mac. "Why are you still with him if he's such a dick?" Mac knows Charlie doesn't mean it as an insult. More constructive criticism. He tries not to take it too harshly. 

"Because I love him. And he's not a dick. He just doesn't know what's best for him most of the time." Mac sighs and reaches inside his pants pocket. Charlie watches him curiously. "I was actually thinking of," Mac pulls out a small velvet box and it takes Charlie a moment to realize what it is. 

"You're gonna ask him to marry you?" He sounds incredulous. Mac smiles and runs his free hand through his hair. "Yeah, man." The ring inside of the small box is just a gold band, but it still took almost a year of his income at the bar to buy.

Charlie grins and wraps an arm around Mac's shoulder. "Congrats, dude. We gotta celebrate." They each go frigid when they hear someone coming up the stairs. "Maybe later, Charlie."

They both stand before the figure comes into view. The guy looks angry and he walks past Mac and Charlie without a second glance. They each follow him because it's definitely the guy that was described to them over the phone. Tall, dark hair, dark eyes, and a scar over his left eye. Charlie said the only info their customer gave him on the target was that he was a meth dealer. 

 

It takes them maybe five minutes to get into guys apartment, overpower and shoot him, then go out the fire escape in case anyone heard the gunshot and came to see what happened. So business as usual. 

But the guy said one thing before they shot him that rubbed Mac the wrong way. "You're gonna regret this." Usually their victims said shit like this all the time, but this one actually believed it. He meant it. Mac does believe in karma, and shooting that guy in the head couldn't have been good for his.

 

Mac gets back to the apartment kind of tired, but besides that fine. That is, until he hears sounds coming from his bedroom that could only be the sound of Dennis having sex. His blood turns cold, and instead of getting angry like he usually defaults to, Mac freezes in the doorway.

He holds onto the injured part of his arm as he listens to them (or at least Dennis) finish. Just a minute later a girl steps out of their bedroom half dressed and dazed looking. She's probably drunk. 

Mac remembers that he's standing in the front door when the girl stops in front of him. But he doesn't step out of her way just yet. She looks young, maybe nineteen or twenty, long blonde hair tossed and wild. 

Mac is suddenly very aware of the gun in his pants. He could shoot this bitch in the face without blinking, but he knows this situation isn't her fault. 

"Sorry," he mumbles, and moves out of her way. After he locks the front door, he just stands there for a moment trying to figure out what just happened. When he lifts his head he sees Dennis leaning against their bedroom doorframe, only in his boxer briefs. He looks smug. 

"I didn't hear you come in," Dennis folds his arms, "I was doing something." Mac finally feels that familiar anger boiling in his chest, it's so intense that it hurts. 

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Dennis?" He erupts, and before he knows it, he's across their apartment and in front of Dennis, who doesn't look intimidated in the slightest. "You said it yourself didn't you?" He smirks, "I just need my prescription filled, right baby?" 

Mac squeezes his fists so tightly that when he looks down at his arms, the bandages are stained red. He must've torn a stitch. 

"God damnit," he's saying it to himself but Dennis speaks. "Don't bring god into this." Mac sighs and backs away from Dennis. He hates when Dennis gets like this. He escalates every situation from 0 to 100 and doesn't think about how his actions will affect anyone else. All he cares about is proving a point. 

Suddenly the velvet box in his pocket feels ten pounds heavier. 

"Goodnight, Dennis." Mac goes to the bathroom and locks the door behind him just in case. After he pees, he avoids looking in the mirror in fear of what he might see. 

Dennis isn't waiting for him outside of the bathroom like Mac was hoping, so he goes to the couch and lies down. For a while, he hears Dennis pacing in their bedroom. Mac wants to sleep in his bed, but he doesn't want to grant Dennis the satisfaction. He's still in his shoes, and picking at his bandaged arms when he falls asleep at their couch.

 

Mac wakes up to the sound of banging fists on the front of the door. For a moment, he assumes it's Charlie because often when the kid is too drunk to stumble to his apartment, he comes to Mac and Dennis'. But the sound is too loud and too angry to be Charlie. Then he thinks that it could be Dee, but she wouldn't bang on the door. She'd just shimmy the lock. 

"Dennis?" He yells out, fear laced into his voice. Maybe Dennis left the house after Mac fell asleep? The response he gets, however, is the front door swinging open, finally worn down by all the pounding it's endured. The only light is from the hallway, and it surrounds the silhouette of the perpetrator. And although he can't see the details of their face, Mac has no doubt as to who is standing ten feet from him. 

"Dad?"


	8. All the very best of us string ourselves up for love

"What are you doing here?" His dad doesn't say anything, instead turns around to close and bolt their front door closed. Once he faces his son again, Mac subconsciously recoils.

"Hello, son." Mac smiles and stands from the couch to greet his father properly. But when he opens his arms for a hug almost two decades late, his father just looks at them with disgust. "Hey, dad. Why are you here?"

Mac gets his answer when his father pulls a gun from his pocket, and points it at Mac's head. "Hey, hey!" He holds his hands up, surrendering to his father. "Where's the other one?" Mac assumes he means Dennis, and gulps, tears burning at the corner of his eyes. "In the- the bedroom."

Mac is powerless against his father, despite the fact that he has a gun in the waistband of his pants. He knows he can't shoot his dad. Not even when his dad strides towards their bedroom, swings open the door, and steps into the darkness. 

Mac doesn't move. He can't step away from where he's standing, in the center of the living room. He feels pathetic, listening to Dennis protest and struggle against Luther. He's yelling for Mac's help, but Mac's frozen. 

A moment later, Luther steps out of their bedroom again, but he's pushing Dennis in front of him. Dennis has a gun pressed against the small of his back, and his arms are tied behind him tightly with a zip tie. 

Mac forces himself not to blink, because tears are welling, threatening to spill. "Dad, please stop." Dennis is looking at Mac with a foreign look in his eyes. Is it helplessness? "Please just tell me why you're here."

Luther shoves Dennis to the floor, in between the McDonald's. 

"I got out of jail just a few days ago. And my gift from you was one of my men dead?" Mac gulps, racking his mind. Could he mean the guy him and Charlie killed earlier tonight? "What- one of your men? What do you mean, dad?" His father steps forward, a menacing sneer plastered on his face. 

"You killed my best seller, Mac." Dennis narrows his eyes, and looks up, between the two men. Mac looks so small now, standing in his father's shadow. "What the fuck are you talking about," Dennis' voice shakes, knowing how dangerous this man is, and lifts himself up clumsily to stand next to Mac. 

"You took my best man," Luther is still speaking to Mac, not having even looked Dennis in the eyes, "now I have to repay the favor."

Mac, without thinking, reaches into the back of his pants, grabbing the gun that was being held there. At that same instant, Luther lifts his gun, too. And then it's a staring contest between the two men. Mac doesn't know what to do; he's torn between his past and his future. 

Luckily there never was a question in what he would decide. Dennis was always the answer. Luther fires his gun first. It was aimed at Dennis, but Mac jumps in the line of fire, taking the bullet. Before falling to their floor, Mac shoots weakly at his father's head with a shaking hand. Luther and Mac fall to the floor at the same moment. Dennis drops to his knees next to Mac.

Mac begins to choke on the warm blood gathering in his throat, and tries to sit up, despite the bullet in his abdomen. Dennis feels tears welling in his eyes. He wishes that his hands weren't tied together so he could hold Mac, who groans and falls down on his back again.

"Dennis," there are tears in Mac's eyes too, and that's when Dennis realizes he's never seen Mac really cry. That's when he realizes that this is serious, that this is something he can't fix. "Yeah, baby?" His voice shakes, and he scoots towards Mac as quickly as he can with bound hands. 

Mac wants to say that he's going to be waiting for Dennis in heaven. But the truth is that he's not sure either of them are going to heaven. And he doesn't want his last words to be untrue. 

Mac wants to say that he spent his whole life believing more in Dennis than he did in Jesus. The Sunday mornings he spent worshipping in the bedroom instead of at church were blasphemous, but he would do it all over again if he had the chance. 

He wants to say that he doesn't care if he's going to hell, because the time he spent with Dennis was heavenly enough. But when he opens his mouth again he coughs blood that now runs down his chin like Dennis' toothpaste did, not too long ago. 

"I love you, Dennis." The words that were never spoken but always implied hurt to say but he wishes he'd said them decades earlier. A sob escapes Dennis before he leans down to Mac, and presses their foreheads together. "Please don't say that. You make it sound like you're not gonna make it." 

Mac wants to kiss Dennis for the last time, because he was always so warm when they were together, and because Mac is feeling colder than ever. 

"I love you," he repeats again. 

Dennis shakes his head and pulls at the restraints around his wrists; he wants to touch Mac's face. "I'm sorry for being a dick," he says quietly, and feels tears on his face. 

Mac closes his eyes, coughs blood making it drip down his chin even more, and then says weakly, "I forgive you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to add another chapter where Dennis finds the engagement ring in Mac's pants and then freaks out and turns himself in to the police. But i like this ending better.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if i need to tag anything triggering. Leave a comment if you liked it


End file.
